god knows
by dotRHEA
Summary: "He promised." deathfic


**I do not intend to insult anyone, do not take any offense you may receive from this fic to heart. I do not own KHR or do I make any profit from publishing this fic.**

**Dedicated to my grandpa.** _Ngo oiy ney gong gong._

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><p>She doesn't know how to react during his funeral at first, doesn't understand why everyone's bent on the thought that he isn't coming back. The screams and sobs don't reach her ears as she watches with bleak eyes as the man recites verses from the bible and chants about how good of a man her husband was. You've never even met him before, silent curses escape her dried lips, what right do you have to make him into a man that he wasn't. He's still here.<p>

God knows where he is, but she knows her husband is still with them. Watching sadly as his family wreck themselves senseless at his funeral, he is the Sky after all. He's the beautiful amber sky that watches after them all. She could only imagine he's crying on his little cloud right now.

Is this what's happening outside right now? Thunder and lightning shake and roar angrily as angry pitter patter launch against the glass windows. She hasn't seen the sun for days and the mist has already begun to invade their summer villa. He's still here, she tells herself as Hayato shakes in his suit with violent sobs before falling onto his knees. He's still here, in the form of a pathetic little specter that hasn't got the guts to show himself.

She leans her head on Takeshi's shoulder as he tries his best to choke out a sentence. "Hey Tsuna, you're still looking after us, right?" he says with a croaky voice before the words turn into sobs to which he tries to hold back. Somewhere beside him, Haru is crying like a baby; her thick mascara leaks down her cheeks making her look like the true image of Namehage- that one monster costume she always brought out around...

Tsuna. Tsuna. Tsuna.

He's still alive, still watching over us. Silly children, stop joking. He'll come back, he always does... Always. He promised me that he'll come back. She wants to say something but her throat is dry and her chapped lips don't seem to want to cooperate as they twitch slightly, over and over again. She feels dizzy, the intoxicating smell of the cathedral is making her head spin but she doesn't a thing as she stares at the large box in front of her.

"I always did prefer the white lilies."

God knows how many goddamn flowers he's laying on; she'll rather count them all than listen to the man spinning white lies. She hopes they're comfortable, she knows that Tsuna could never sleep when something was poking at him. They're prettier than their pink counterparts after all; his presence among them only gratifies their- his beauty. He's sleeping, and this is his bed. A coffin filled with dead flowers.

He'll sleep above the ground; she knows he'll hate it when he wakes up to find that he's six feet under soil and dead plants. In a confined space with limited oxygen nonetheless.

"Kyoko, I'm going out."

He never says where, he just goes and comes back with a dozen wounds. The years grow on her and now she's got enough sense to know that he's definitely too skinny to be a sumo wrestler, so she pries and gets the truth out of him. She's not surprised when he says that he's mafia. The leader of a powerful organization called the Vongola. Famed in the underworld. She's not surprised at all; she just asks why he didn't tell her earlier. "I wanted to keep you safe." he tells her in that sweet guilty whisper of his.

He's such a hopeless romantic.

His face is turned towards her; she's the one closest to his head, his face pale as the winter's snow and mouth slightly open as if about to release a light snore. His eye lids are shut gently as if he was a baby who fell asleep in his mother's arms. He's only asleep and nothing else, she tells herself.

Hibari frowns in the corner and turns to leave. He knows something, she tells herself but she chooses not do anything about it.

"I'll be back by dinner, promise."

His whispers echo in her ears as if she had placed it in a sea shell. His soft, hushed and gentle voice that she won't be waking up to anymore in the morning. His beautiful eyes that she'll always miss, a spot on their bed that will always remain empty. It all slips out of her hands like grains of sand and washes away like the ashes of cigarettes in the breeze. Gone.

He's gone.

But he promised.

God knows who sniffles beside her but the realization sinks in slowly.

He's gone.

Gone.

He'll never wake up again.

No one says a word as she throws herself at the casket. The wedding band on both of their fingers shines tentatively as the lightning lights up the empty sky. She touches his cheeks with delicate fingers, down his cheekbone, to his lips; she places her hands on both sides of his face childishly. "Honey, wake up..." she whispers over and over again, her tears streaming down once dried cheeks. It's a bad dream. Just a bad dream. A nightmare.

Tsuna's cold. So very cold.

She pats his cheek lightly and his head lolls over to the other side.

He's not dead.

He can't be dead.

The sky- her sky can never be dead.

The gunshots rush through her head as she crouches down to her husband's still body. He was shot twice from behind; puncturing the major arteries next to his heart and his skull. He fell, right into her welcoming arms as she waited for him at their front porch. He bleeds all over her summer dress and it takes all her might to drag him over to the phone and call for her brother who in turns sends him to the hospital. She doesn't react at that one little scenario, Tsuna always gets shot, every since their childhood together, he's been shot at least once every day by Reborn. Whether it been his forehead, his leg or his chest, he always survived. She had mistakenly thought this was another one of miracle recovery times. It wasn't.

She was told he died right away and she didn't know to react ever since.

Oh god, why did you take such a man? He still had so much to live for, my beautiful husband of mine. He was the sky that embraced all, he was a chain and link, and took everyone under his wing. Oh god, he was an amazing leader. Never did any men die under his words, he was wise, battle-hardy, and god he was only twenty four.

God knows how, but she could've sworn he was crying with her. His tears mixing with hers.

Oh god, he promised. He always promises, he keeps his promises. He always does, even if it meant that he'll need to show up with a fractured rib and a leg in an air cast if he had said that he'll see me off to my plane. He was so young, my husband—my Tsuna. Oh, why did you take him? He still had so much to live for…

He promised that he'll come back.

He said he'll be back for dinner.

He promised.


End file.
